


Five things Chuck ate in the Pegasus galaxy that he couldn't pronounce

by shinealightonme



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: 5 Things, Community: sg1_five_things, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-03
Updated: 2009-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:59:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightonme/pseuds/shinealightonme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/sg1_five_things/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/sg1_five_things/"><b>sg1_five_things</b></a>.  Originally posted <a href="http://shinealightonme.livejournal.com/59708.html">on LJ</a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Five things Chuck ate in the Pegasus galaxy that he couldn't pronounce

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/sg1_five_things/profile)[**sg1_five_things**](http://community.livejournal.com/sg1_five_things/). Originally posted [on LJ](http://shinealightonme.livejournal.com/59708.html).

1\. Chuck's 1st rule for surviving the Pegasus galaxy: pack a lunch.

"You think these plants are edible?" Chuck called out.

"Why don't you eat one and see what happens?" Oakes shot back, sounding bored, which wasn't quite fair since it had been _his_ call not to have Atlantis send any food once they realized they were going to be in the field longer than originally planned.

"Let me see that," Ragar commented, pushing closer to look at the plants. "Hm," he mused, "This looks like some specimens they brought back last week," and said some kind of gibberish. Latin had never been his strong point.

"That means it's okay, right?"

"Sure." The answer was a little more off-hand than Chuck liked, given that his life could be on the line, but the scientist cut a stalk off the plant and started eating it. If he were sure enough about it to do so, it must be okay. Probably.

Chuck sniffed carefully at the fruit before taking a bite. It smelled like mint...and tasted like beef jerky. He made a face but kept eating.

__   
__

2\. Chuck's 10th rule for surviving the Pegasus galaxy: never be the first to try something.

He'd been assured that the Yamanian yak yogurt, while ridiculously alliterative, was perfectly safe to eat, so he'd snagged a cup on his way out of the mess hall.

Weir was in the control room when he walked in, which made him a little nervous, but he was right on time. "Hello, Sergeant," she greeted him, amiably, so he figured she was down here to get to know the staff and observe operations, not because Atlantis was about to explode or someone was in trouble. "Just back from lunch?"

His mouth was full, so he simply nodded.

"What is that?"

"Yogurt," he answered, or tried to. It came out more like "yaah." His eyes opened wide in surprise and he tried saying something coherent, but it was as though he'd just been shot up with Novacaine.

"Are you all right?" Weir asked him, eyes narrowing with concern, but he couldn't answer that question any better than her last. She tapped her radio. "Weir to infirmary, I need a med team in the control room."

Beckett checked him out and pronounced it a mild and fairly harmless reaction to the yogurt. It contained some protein that Earth yogurt lacked, which only had adverse properties for a small portion of the population. Since the only effect was an annoying (to him, at least, and amusing to everyone else) speech impediment, which was already starting to wear off, he was sent back to work for the rest of his shift.

It could have been worse. Still, it wasn't quite the impression he'd wanted to make on the expedition leader.

__   
__

3\. Chuck's 34th rule for surviving the Pegasus galaxy: sometimes you just _don't want to know_.

"Uh, what did you say it was called again?"

Chuck prodded the grayish-brownish-greenish-blobish mess in his bowl and thought that was either a very good question or a very foolish one.

The Athosian woman – who had seemed like the kind, grandmotherly type, but was clearly a force to be reckoned with – repeated the long string of syllables. Chuck got lost half-way through.

"Weird. It's like it's just not translating."

"Be thankful for small favors," one of the Marines muttered.

It was all there was to eat in the camp.

Chuck wondered how much longer he could go without eating.

__   
__

4\. Chuck's 62nd rule for surviving the Pegasus galaxy: three words – privacy, privacy, _privacy_.

Lorne's team had found some strange pepper-like-things off-world and brought them back to Atlantis for the botanists – and ultimately the cooking staff – to experiment with.

Chuck hadn't been in a position to pay attention to the name of the pepper-things when they'd told him what it was. It had been a little hard to listen closely to a culinary description when he'd been running to the bathroom as fast as he could – it wasn't enough to drink water, his skin was flushing and it felt like he was on fire. He was splashing water over his face and neck and arms and was wishing for a shower when he heard choked-off laughter and looked up to find he had an audience. Several people had followed him from the mess hall, worried he was going to be sick or go into anaphylactic shock.

At least they'd had a good laugh at the whole thing, as did most of Atlantis, once word spread. Chuck never did get to hear the original name of the pepper-things again, because the botanists decided to rename it in his honor.

He was plotting a suitable revenge, though. Karma would even things out, even if it needed a little help.

__   
__

5\. Chuck's 107th rule for surviving the Pegasus galaxy: don't eat lunch with chemists.

He'd had to add this to the list after a particularly memorable meal with a chatty scientist, who had detailed exactly what went into the MREs – mono-this and ribo-something and poly-whatnot and a million other things besides, none of which sounded like anything good, until the dazed sergeant couldn't summon the will to finish eating.

It wasn't that he was such a fan of MREs in the first place, but they were the fallback, the standby, the safe food. He guessed that they meant it when they said that there was nothing safe about gate travel.


End file.
